In the second half of the twentieth century, over 1.5 million Jewish individuals emigrated from the USSR and eventually the post-Soviet states. Prior to the fall of USSR—and particularly before the USSR’s last General-Secretary Mikhail Gorbachev initiated internal political reforms—emigration was a rare privilege granted by the state as opposed to a guaranteed right. Indeed, Jewish citizens, along with Volga Germans and Armenians, were unique in their ability to successfully depart the USSR en masse. However, their departure did not proceed unquestioned or with ease. After World War II, the USSR permitted emigration on the grounds of two justifications: repatriation and family reunification. The former stemmed from both Soviet nationality policy—which in the 1920s and 30s attached nations to territories as a prerequisite to the realization of socialism—and the USSR’s forced “repatriation” of perceived national enemies—such as ethnic Poles and Germans after World War II. The notion of family reunification emerged from the Soviet Union’s efforts in post-WWII reconstruction and was eventually bolstered by the USSR’s acquiescence to the Helsinki Final Act in 1975. Despite these precedents, the Soviet state reserved the right to deny its citizens the ability to emigrate. And globally, particularly within United States and Western Europe, the bureaucratic complexities, repressive nature, and potential consequences of Jews’ emigration process was epitomized by the image of the Soviet Refusenik.

It refers to the minority of Soviet Jewish applicants—though a small subsection of Refuseniks were non-Jews—for emigration who were subsequently denied the opportunity to do so. Jewish emigration from the USSR preceded the emergence of the Refusenik. Though in small numbers and with intermittent breaks—such as the last five years of Stalin’s rule—Jews had been departing the USSR as early as 1948. Some left directly via invitation to Israel (approximately 8200 departed between 1948-1968) and many more by first repatriating to Poland and subsequently capitalizing off Poland’s lax attitude to immigration to Israel. Most of these emigres, however, came from either the Western or Caucasian Republics. They were older, more ardently Zionist, often more religious, and fewer in number. For the Soviet state, their departure did not present so great a sacrifice. The tides turned and refusals appeared when the make-up of those applying for departure became younger, more educated, highly skilled, urbanized, and largely assimilated.

The number of Refuseniks began to accumulate in the early 1970s, decreased in the mid-to-late 1970s, and then grew exponentially in the early 1980s. Both contemporary observers and modern historians have sought to trace the vacillating nature of the USSR’s decision to deny or grant exit visas. Scholars have invoked an amalgamation of domestic and international causes, including Soviet efforts to prevent a “brain-drain,” discourage other diaspora national groups (i.e. Volga Germans or Armenians) from also petitioning for emigration, and show Soviet strength to the United States as the era of détente petered out.

Abroad, the American Soviet Jewry Movement often overexaggerated the number of Refuseniks in the USSR, conflating their numbers with that of Soviet Jews in general. A 1987 call to protest even claimed that over “400,000 Refuseniks are Dying to Leave the Soviet Union.”

The most comprehensive list, which was published by the Anti-Defamation League in 1987, titled A Uniquely Jewish List: The Refuseniks of Russia, estimated the existence of approximately 11,000 Refuseniks in the USSR. Of these 11,000, only a few dozen became household names in the USSR, United States, Israel, and Western Europe. Their signatures graced petitions smuggled out of the USSR and their photos persistently featured in The New York Times, Jewish Telegraphic Agency, Der Spiegel, or Haaretz. Among them were Anatoly (later Natan) Sharansky, Ida Nudel, Vladimir and Maria Slepak, Mark Azbel, Yuli Edelstein, Iosif Begun, and many more.

But how did one become a Refusenik? To receive an exit visa from the USSR, Soviet Jews engaged in a lengthy and often arduous process of document collecting (invitations from family or individuals posing as family in Israel, character recommendations from work-place supervisors, approval from one’s parents...etc.). Securing such documentation, especially invitations from Israel, could take months, if not years. Parents of potential emigres could reject their child’s wishes to exit, and supervisors would only provide recommendations if the potential emigres requesting them agreed to “voluntarily” leave their place of work. Obtaining an exit visa was also an expensive task. In the early 1970s, those with degrees of higher learning were required to pay a hefty “education tax” before their departure. But even after international pressure forced the USSR to cancel the tax, other expenses could quickly accumulate. Traveling to Moscow to secure one’s exit visa could cost as much as 100 rubles, depending on one’s proximity to the city. An exit visa and the repeal of one’s citizenship could cost 700-800 rubles per person (equivalent to if not more than the monthly salary of a highly skilled professional). Consequently, if one’s local Office of Visa and Registration (OVIR) refused one’s application for an exit visa—transforming the potential émigré into a Refusenik—one was often left jobless, cleared of savings, and alienated from social circles.

Applicants could be denied because they were “privy to state secrets,” provided “insufficient [proof of] kinship,” “[the applicant’s] parents disapproved [of their departure],” because it was simply “netselosobrazno [not feasible]” or sometimes without any explanation whatsoever. Some Refuseniks were told to reapply in six months, others in five years. A few were told not to even bother reapplying. Refusenik Benjamin Bogomolny even earned a spot in the Guinness Book of World Records, as he spent twenty-two years receiving refusal after refusal.

The bureaucratic ambiguity continued after the rejection. The waiting process proved more strenuous and demeaning for potential Soviet Jewish emigres (now officially Refuseniks) than the application process preceding it. In the USSR unemployment was illegal, and yet the state also often declined to rehire Refuseniks. Refuseniks found themselves in a perilous paradox. By simultaneously requesting that Soviet Jews’ leave their places of work before applying for emigration, and not providing them with an opportunity to return to work if they were denied the right to emigrate, the Soviet state trapped Refuseniks into committing a crime. It was in this condition that communities of Refuseniks overlapped with other Soviet dissidents—both rights defenders and nationalists. These interactions occurred through joint signatures on samizdat petitions, in apartments across Moscow, Kyiv, Odessa, and St. Petersburg, and even in the Gulag. But Refuseniks were unique in their end-goal. They did not aim to reform the USSR, but rather to leave it entirely. The pursuit of that goal manifested in both clandestine and bold action. An early group of Refuseniks attempted to hijack an airplane in 1970, hoping that its final stop would be in Israel. The KGB subsequently foiled the bold plan, and its architects were sentenced to varying years of imprisonment—a reduction from the originally delivered capital sentence. Dozens of Refuseniks turned to short-lived protests, quickly busted by the KGB.

Refuseniks also embraced less explicitly radical forms of activism. Some involved themselves in the creation and delivery of Samizdat: clandestinely self-published and circulated literature, journals, political commentary, and petitions. Samizdat boasted hundreds of contributing and overlapping networks, ranging across nationalist, dissident, and even underground music groups. Jewish Refuseniks and activists comprised merely one of such networks. The group’s most prominent journals included Iton (Hebrew for “Newspaper”) Iskhod (Russian for “Exodus) Evrei v SSSR (Russian for “Jews of the USSR), and Tarbut (Hebrew for “Culture”). Peeking into one of these journals, a reader could find philosophical musings on Spinoza, listings of Jewish recipes, or instructions on how to provide one’s child with a Jewish upbringing. Even amongst themselves, Refuseniks disagreed on the purpose of their participation in Samizdat networks, with some focusing on cultural topics (Kulturniki), such as language learning, and others on political ones (Politiki), such as dissidence and human rights. On a personal level, Refuseniks became a source of information for other Soviet Jews, as those planning to apply consulted with Refuseniks in their social circles on the application process.

It was through these avenues that Refuseniks also gained more direct contact with the world outside the USSR. American Jewish and Israeli organizations, such as Lishkat Hakesher (The Israeli Government’s Liaison Bureau), the American Jewish Committee, National Conference on Soviet Jewry, and the Anti-Defamation league kept track of Refuseniks in the USSR. They recorded and publicized their names, addresses and life stories. American Jewish and Israeli citizens were encouraged to send care packages, Hebrew grammar books, and religious paraphernalia to unemployed Refuseniks, and even to personally meet with Refuseniks over trips to the USSR. The Israeli government would use Refuseniks’ information to repeatedly send them invitations, hoping to bolster Refuseniks’ claims to repatriation and family reunification.

Participating in both open and underground forms of activism had its consequences. Refuseniks could find themselves followed by the KGB, having their phone lines cut off, and apartments searched. They and their family members could face expulsions from their universities or places of work. Hundreds of Refuseniks even served years-long prison sentences.

Though initially reticent on the status of Refuseniks, by 1987 Gorbachev’s government drafted and passed legislation standardizing Soviet emigration policy. By the end of 1987, 7000 Refuseniks had gained the right to emigrate. One year later, officials from the Communist Party, Justice Ministry, and Visa Department met with ten representatives of the remaining Refusenik community to further brainstorm legislation that would allow Refuseniks to formally and in a standardized manner reappeal for exit visas.

Refuseniks departed the USSR with Israeli visas in hand, by virtue of the “repatriation” logic that guided Soviet mobility policy. Unlike most Soviet Jews, for Refuseniks who had spent years engaging with and creating Jewish samizdat or studying the Hebrew language, resettlement in Israel was a preferred fate. But despite the Israeli nationalist sentiments of the most prominent Refuseniks, not all Refuseniks chose to resettle in Israel. To the ire of the Israeli government, several less-prominent Refuseniks decided to either directly immigrate to the United States or to leave Israel merely a few years after their immigration. While the Israeli government did not take to these decisions lightly, former Refuseniks and Soviet Jewish activists already in Israel begrudgingly accepted their counterparts’ right to the freedom of movement. The majority of Refuseniks did remain in Israel, despite the economic and cultural challenges of resettlement. In their early years in Israel, Refuseniks who held advanced positions as scientists, engineers, or physicians in the USSR were forced to take on blue-collar or less prestigious work. Refuseniks such as Vladimir and Masha Slepak, respectively an engineer and physician in the USSR, were forced into part-time work and retirement. Such conditions, however, were either temporary or resolved for the generation that followed. Jews from the former USSR—Refuseniks among them—subsequently played an outsized role in Israel’s tech boom of the 1990s. Several prominent Refuseniks such as Natan Sharansky and Yuli Edelstein eventually occupied influential right-wing roles in the Knesset.

To other Soviet dissident and nationalist groups, Refuseniks—by virtue of their relative and eventual success—were both an influence and subjects of envy. Amongst themselves, Refuseniks were a series of networks, bureaucratically and socially estranged from official circles of Soviet society. And though Soviet Refuseniks were not the typical Soviet Jewish émigrés, the former came to represent the latter.